


Love me for a moment; Love me forever

by Insertsomethingwittyhere



Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: ABO not a major part, Alpha Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Angst, Beta Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, I am indeed making this up as i go, I am sorting out kinks, I dont ship Wen Qionglin and Wei Ying, I have a lot of feelings, I hope, Lan Wangji is the count, M/M, Nie Mingjue is Van Hellsing, Omega Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, This is ABO to kinda round everything out and give pace and time a better flow, Warning you know that I dont think this will have a happy ending, Wei Ying is Mina, Wen Ning is Jonathan Harker, and I dont mean any of it, and on Annie Lennox love song for a vampire, based on Dracula, but I love Wen Ning, but for this I will suffer it, but fuck harker, in the fic, morally grey everything kinda, most fuckin boring shit head ever, my Dracula knowledge is touch and go so bear with, sad as fuck, there might be a bit of bashing on Wen Ning bcs I dont like the character of Harker, you can see where this is going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insertsomethingwittyhere/pseuds/Insertsomethingwittyhere
Summary: *Screams*Wei Ying was happy to marry Wen Ning, after the gentile courting and soft appreciations he'd fallen in love with the quiet man and was happy for their approaching marriage which would take place after Wen Ning sorts out the lonely Count.Wen Ning had hopped that this trip would be quick so that he would return home and marry the love of his life, but when mysterious disappearances start coming to his attention at the Count's manour, Bichen
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn/Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	1. October 13 - Wei Ying

Wei Ying was getting married, not now but soon. His betrothed, who had at first been picked out for him at birth and then later because of love had traveled across the sea to the old Mansion that sat nestled in the cold misty mountains. And although he loved Wen Ning, he'd always felt that there was something missing - a certain spice that just wasn't there. Something when he looked at it too long would make him uncomfortable, a cold empty unsatisfying feeling would crawl among his bones and settle heavy in his lungs and grip his heart in a vice, as if there was something out there that he was missing. It was silly, this feeling of despondency because he did love the soft spoken Beta, but if not for the social dictation of the society his family lived in, perhaps he would of left to find this missing half, but being an unmarked omega at the age of 20 was borderline social suicide and left no leeway for him to scamper off and travel the world. His social chains binding him to a marriage to a well off person, and although Wen Ning wasn't an alpha he'd gotten both the approval of his parents and his own, his soft spoken and mild ways an easy balm to Wei Ying's raging fire and bright light. A perfect match in societies terms. But still Wei Ying felt he needed more. There were many thing that Wei Ying was good at and one of them was squishing down and hiding negative feelings deep deep down. 

Which is how he found himself kissing Wen Ning on the cheek and waving goodbye from the docks as he watched the ship sail away.


	2. October 13 - Wen Ning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wen ning Pov
> 
> We see the relationship from his side and the journey to the Mansion. And then we meet the Count.
> 
> BTW making the name/titles up as I go - it makes no sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's midnight and so I have plot and the will to write - just not the energy and I still have work tomorrow. Boo.
> 
> Anyway so sorry for taking so long to update! Remember to stay safe out there and not to buy up all the stuff in stores bcs, well bcs really. Its fucking ridiculous, everything is now super hard to get... I am enjoying all the bog roll memes though I must admit.

Wen Ning couldn't believe just how lucky he was - by this time next year he would be married to the man of his dreams, Wei Ying's laughter and lilting voice still carried on in his head as he clutched at the wet beam on the ship, the waves a crashing crescendo as they made their way to the nearest port - soon after to then set off by coach for the old mansion (more of a castle if you asked Wen Ning - not that anyone ever did) home to Count Hanguang-jun. He hadn't heard much about the count besides the fact that he was a lonely old man that lived isolated and soon enough his pondering turned to gossip that he had heard from other co-workers about how spooky and unsettling it was there, how talking to the Count felt like talking to a waiting wolf wise eyed and hungry his gaze piercing. With these thoughts running through his head and making him queasy it wasn't long before the ship docked and Wen Ning was herded off of the ship and his shaky legs met with the muddy and infested ground of the quiet little port town. With luggage in hand he shuffled his feet and took in the dreary and drab town, he looks both left and right and sees only more dreary gray houses on either side. There isn't much going on, the town nigh on empty all except the small tavern were he can hear the bustle of men and women drinking and from the man flying out the window a couple of bar fights as well, but all these people are from the ships that have docked in, their clothes and accents all too much a give away. He stands and looks up at the darkening sky, the sun setting as the clouds catch its light and burn a candles orange, the sky bathed orange to light pink, stars slowly starting to dip in and out of Wen Ning's vision as he waited quietly on the corner of the street. 

The Black coach that approached had an ominous feeling settling into Wen Ning's gut, the big sturdy black horses pored at the earth, their breath like dragons smoke as they dug mountains in roads and snorted and bared teeth with ears back at unsuspecting passers by. Wen Ning swallowed and lifting up his case he made his way to the coachman that stood, as he came closer he stood a fair distance wary of the horses and the the cloaked man, his hat pulled low, hiding his eyes but leaving sharp features; a carved nose and cupid's lips framed by a sharp chin, a faint dark shadow around his lower face claimed of a faint beard - the only part of the man that had bemoaned an unkempt appearance that would be frowned on in polite society. Wen Ning shuffled from foot to foot before meekly calling out, 

"Good sir, is this the carriage for Bichen Manor?" He waited a bit, the rain that had started as a drizzle started to pelt down and wet the meandering few, the crack of distant lightening caused the horses to shuffle and snort before the man nodded, his voice was low and smooth something powerful that made Wen Ning shiver at how he said his name. At his nod the stranger took his luggage and placed it on the back of the carriage before opening the door for him to get in at which Wen Ning nodded meekly and sat down on the comfortable leather seats taking of his top hat and placing it to the side. The door closed with a sharp click and the foreboding feeling as he sat in the dark confines of the carriage with its ruby red seats and black interior closing tight around him. With a harsh crack and the rumble of thunder they were off the carriage set of at a fast pace jostling Wen Ning in its confines as they made their way through the little town with its pinched faced community and somber silence, its cobbled roads jostling the carriage and creating a crescendo of sound each time the horses feet connected with it. 

It's not long before the rattling and clattering of the wheels turn to the morbid crunch of frosting earth as the thin wheels find the groves of carriages past and makes its precarious way up to the Counts home. Wen Ning holds his hand to his heart, the flighty bird in a cage somewhat comforting to him as he shifts about in this dark space. He squeaks when ghostly howls shake and move the earth around him - only the crack of the whip and the panting of horses never changes and now he can feel his flighty bird trying to escape up and out his throat. He mumbles to himself and shifts with shaking limbs to take a look outside. There is a shear drop and Wen Ning quickly replaces the curtain and grips it's rich bloody velvet between his fingers. He takes a deep breath again and looks out the window taking in the cold visage of the towering castle that seems to even dwaf the mountains surrounding it, he swallows as he sees it moving closer, his fear settling like an old friend in the pit of his stomach. It looks opulent and cold from this distance, seeming to grow worse as they make their journey - now on its last leg as they reach the bridge that connects them over a deep ravine. Wen Ning shifts and looks around as the carriage comes to a stop and the coachman opens the door with a click and let's him free from this helish confines, he nods meekly, eyes lowered as he quickly darts out of the coach onto still land, only flickering his eyes up to stare at the golden eyed man before he makes his way to the large Oak door. The carvings on it tell a story, one had it not been so dark and spooky Wen Ning was sure he would be inclined to read, but with the nipping of cold and hounding of cries Web Ning knocks on the door and waits, the sound of the coach moving off and away the only remnant of a time of civilisation that he finds himself clinging to. He doesn't wait long before the door is opened and he is ushered in by an elderly man. 

The count's face although wrinkled and drawn betrayed features that once had been sharp and fine, a remarkably good looking man in his youth - perhaps even enough to rival Jiang Wanyin and Wei Ying, both of whom had ranked first in their respective dynamic categories for good looking men. The Count nodded his head, long silver hair held neatly up in a top knot, a single jade pin holding the crown in place leaving not a hair out of place. Then with long bony fingers he gestured for Wen Ning to enter his abode. The naked candle danced and reflected off of his pristine white robes as he moved further into the hall. Standing next to him Wen Ning felt scruffy and out of place, a blush of red rose to his cheeks and he quickly dusted himself down and brushed stray wisps of his hair back into place, smoothing his hair back as much as it would allow before he trotted after the Count's long smooth strides, his old and withered frame a deception of the power that stilled laid in bent bones and wrinkled skin. For much of the journey Wen Ning had traveled in silence, only with the wind and howling wolves as his frightening friend - and hard pressed for conversation from the carriage's driver who simply gave a short harsh laugh and then later mere hums whenever he tried to start up a conversation, as even if he was shy and stuttered he still had need of human interaction and companionship. After they had reached the parlor and sat before an open fire did Wen Ning take a moment to gather his surroundings, a portrait of a handsome man with eyes of the same gold as the Count was holding within the ring of his arms another man of slighter build with eyes crinkled from laughter, his features almost identical to his Wei Ying. In comparison their backdrop was a blur to their breath taking beauty and loving looks. It sat ornately over the hearth, a dark oak frame finished it off. The crackle of the light casting both a warm and frightening glow, as if passion had caught them and with their own desire had played out a tragic backstory. Wen Ning shifted in the arm chair and looked to the Count who was staring face impassive at the the painting. 

"Who are they?" he found himself asking as the Count handed him a small glass of sherry. 

"The First count and his mate." The Count turned his flat gold eyes towards Wen Ning, a flash of emotion, like a swimming fish disappeared with a flick of the light. 

"Do-do you know the name of his mate? He looks like-like my fiancee." Wen Ning shuffled in his seat a sudden breeze raising the hairs on the back of his neck - the fire doing nothing to fight off this sudden chill. 

"Wei Ying." The name was breathed out like a psalm - its soothing lyrics seemed to take a wait off of the Counts bowed shoulders and when Wen Ning blinked he could almost believe that he was seeing a young heart broken man sitting in front of him, but with another blink the mirage was gone and once again sitting in the chair opposite him was the old Count. Wen Ning clutched at the arms of the chair and leaned slightly forward as if to comfort the poor old man, his heart in a painful vice. 

"Ah my fiancee is also called Wei Ying! Actually they-they look quiet similar -" He reached into the breast pocket of his coat and brought out a blurry picture of Wei Ying, even the 30 seconds he had to sit still to take this picture had been to much and he had fidgeted quite a bit, but still his delicate and sharp features were still visible within the black and white picture. "-We're to be married next year on the turn of spring." 

"How lucky for you." 

"May I ask about what happened to them?" There was a pause, only the howling of the storm outside was left and even that seemed to quieten down awaiting the old Counts sad and tired voice, 

"He died when they were young." with that he took a sip of what Wen Ning presumed to be red wine, different to the Brandy he'd chosen to fight off the chill that hung around even here besides the flickering fire - it's warmth subdued as if it was afraid. With the closing of that train of discussion burnt out and wreaked Wen Ning soon turned to talking business, finding that the Count was far sharper and silver tongued than he had assumed through his letters and soon they had drawn to a close, and unwilling for once to let the conversation die out he picked up a different topic, the count once again well versed on it and before he knew it it was approaching dawn. 

"Oh my, I'm so sorry! I did not mean to keep you up so late!" he shuffles and looks down slightly ashamed of his selfishness keeping the old Count up to such unreasonable times. The Count let out a soft puff of air in what he assumed was humour before the Count ushered him upstairs to what would be his room for the forseable future.


End file.
